


Twixt the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

by Kallanda_Lee



Series: Fuckpotato Series [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Amputation, Amputation Kink, Amputee, Amputee Bucky Barnes, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Ass to Mouth, Blood, Body Horror, Come Eating, Cruelty, Crying, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dismemberment, Explicit Sexual Content, Face Slapping, Forced Orgasm, Gore, Graphic Description, Gunplay, HTP, HYDRA Trash Party, Hurt No Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Men Crying, Mutilation, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Oral Sex, Pain, Rape/Non-con Elements, Revenge, Revenge Sex, Rimming, Sexual Coercion, Sexual Dysfunction, Sexual Violence, Stucky - Freeform, Suicidal Thoughts, Threats, Violence, forced penetration, fuckpotato, kicking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-25 11:37:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4959196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kallanda_Lee/pseuds/Kallanda_Lee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a.k.a. Fahre made me do it, a.k.a. the Stucky fic nobody dared ask for.</p><p>Also known as "The one where Steve is coerced to fuck a now quadruple amputee Bucky against his will, because Rumlow is holding a gun to their heads."</p><p>Please mind the tags, they're there for a reason.</p><p>i'm not kidding, this is basically 25 pages of awful things happening to your faves, with very little reprieve. </p><p>Help, I have fallen into the Hydra trash dumpster and I can't get up.</p><p>Original link to prompt: http://hydratrashmeme.dreamwidth.org/1634.html?thread=2929250#cmt2929250</p><p>Also, no beta. Read at your own discretion. Feel free to point out spelling mistakes, which I'm sure did sneak in there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> No really: This is not a nice fic. If you came here from reading my fluff, PLEASE HEED THE TAGS.
> 
> This is the prompt:
> 
> Based on the following prompt:
> 
> Fuckpotato or Die (tw: body horror)
> 
> Just the elegant simplicity of Steve being captured by HYDRA and offered a choice between raping, a now quadruple-amputee but conscious, Bucky on the operating table. Or Steve's execution will be the last thing Bucky sees before HYDRA gouge out his eyes.
> 
> And by 'HYDRA' I mean Rumlow. Because I'm all about Rumlow taunting Steve with how long he intends to keep Bucky alive, and what else he'll do to Bucky once Steve's dead.
> 
> Because who doesn't want Steve emotionally blackmailed into taking the first option - having the worst sex of both his and Bucky's lives - with Steve not being sure if he's trying to shield Bucky with his body during it or if he's keeping close to guarantee that, when Rumlow shoots him, the bullet'll pass through and kill Bucky too.

When Steve woke up on the cold, hard floor he instantly knew there was something wrong. The flickering neon light hurt his eyes; his ears could hear movement on the other side of the room. The sharp scent of disinfectant and the smell of scorched, rotting flesh permeated his nose.  
  
He felt drunk, and that in itself was a red flag. Steve Rogers did not get drunk. Someone must have drugged him. It became painfully clear that it wasn't just bright light distorting his eyesight - his vision was actually blurry. His limbs only partially obeyed him, but he tried to sit upright. It was then that he realized that his hands were tied behind his back. He tugged at the restraints. They didn't budge a single inch. Whoever brought him here knew who he was dealing with.  
  
_Think_ , he told himself,  _remember what happened_.  
  
The last thing he could recall was him fighting alongside Nat and Sam. They had found a surviving Hydra base near Ottawa, of all places, and had been ambushed after they thought they had already cleared the perimeter.  
  
Steve's line of thought was disrupted by a raspy voice.  
  
"Welcome back among the living, Captain. So good to see you again."  
  
He knew that voice.  
  
"Rumlow," he hissed.  
  
"The one and only," the voice replied.  
  
As his vision started to normalize again, Steve could see the man in the flesh. He was sitting near what appeared to be an operating table. His face and hands were marked by scars from when the Triskellion fell, but other than that, Rumlow was just as Steve remembered. His pose was confident, and he had a smug smile on his face.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, Steve could see something moving on the operating table.  
  
_Someone_ was alive on there, but the movements were all wrong and distorted. For a brief moment he wondered if this was one of Hydra's experiments gone wrong, a poor soul that was supposed to become  _Enhanced_  but just ended up with a broken body instead.  
  
A heartbeat later, he realized he  _knew_  those features, and his blood ran cold.  
  
"BUCKY?!" he yelled as he tried to scramble to his feet, not fast enough for his liking.  
  
"I swear, Rumlow, if you've hurt him..."  
  
Rumlow looked at him with condescension. "Tut, tut, Captain. You are in no position to be making threats. Look behind you."  
  
Steve did. He saw a solid glass wall with about a dozen Hydra goons behind it. The wall had small sniper holes, through which multiple guns were pointed directly at him.  
  
"Bulletproof glass," Rumlow explained. "And a new generation of magnetic cuffs. See, we have learned from the little incident in the elevator. Even if you somehow manage to break free, they will shoot you before you can lay a hand on me. They will shoot you before you can get your pal here out of the room. Or they will shoot you before you can break through the glass to stop them. And even if by some miracle you'd manage to kill me, they're still under orders to finish you. Whichever way you choose, Captain...you lose."  
  
Steve balled his fists behind his back.   
  
"What the hell do you want?"  
  
A deep, ominous laugh escaped from Rumlow's mouth as he stood up, rising to Steve's eye level.  
  
"What I want, my dear Captain, is to see you suffer. And one way or another...I  _will_. Why don't you come over here, and have a good look at your Bucky?"  
  
Steve felt like someone's hand had penetrated his chest, and was crushing both his heart and his lungs. He approached the operating table on shaking legs. Rumlow took a few steps back as Steve came closer, drawing his own weapon, cocking it, and pointing it at Steve at more than an arm's length.  
  
A child-like sob escaped Steve's mouth as he got close enough to observe the scene. He was struck by a deep, all-encompassing panic he had not felt since he had seen Bucky fall all those years ago.   
  
Bucky was lying on the operating table, which was more of a slab really. Except it wasn't  _all_  of Bucky. There was barely more than a torso left. The prosthetic had been ripped from its socket and disconnected wires were hanging from the empty shoulder. Bucky's flesh-and-blood limbs, which had been fine last time Steve had seen him, were missing too. His legs had been reduced to two stumps ending about halfway the femur, sporting large, angry-looking scars. The right arm had been removed about halfway the bicep, and was marked by an equally ugly and painful-looking half-healed wound. Next to the slab there was a large trash can that contained a bone saw, a shovel, bloody bandages and what appeared to be remnants of Bucky's limbs.   
Steve realized now what he has smelled before. Someone had crudely hacked off Bucky's arm and legs, cauterized the wounds - probably with a heated shovel - and unceremoniously dumped everything into the trash can, leaving it to rot like it was nothing more than common waste.   
  
Steve felt himself heave. He must have made a sound, because it made Bucky's eyelids flutter open. It was then that he descended into a deeper level of Hell. As his eyes met Bucky's - blue , tear-filled pools of infinite sadness - he realized the true horror of the situation. Bucky was  _conscious_ and aware of everything that had happened.  
  
"Steve," he said weakly, "you shouldn't have come. You shouldn't have..." The tears that had already formed in his eyes, streamed down his cheeks as he tried to speak. Steve wanted the reach out for him, to comfort him, but he was only left struggling against his restraints.  
  
"WHY?!" he cried as he turned to face Rumlow again. "Why do this? What do you even get out of this?"  
  
Rumlow shrugged.  
  
"Joy? Fulfillment? But, really, it's  _your_  fault, Captain. He was a perfectly fine weapon. But you had to ruin him. You had to make him remember. Make him think he's a person. He lost his value as a soldier. He was no use to Hydra like that. So me and the boys decided to repurpose him. We thought he might still be of use as a limbless sex doll...easy access, you see...and the boys do need some R&R."  
  
Steve finally broke. He growled and lunged himself at Rumlow.  
  
A bullet hit the floor near his feet before he could even reach him.  
  
"Temper, Captain. I'm not kidding. We  _will_  kill you."  
  
"And what makes you think it's not worth the bullet to me?"  
  
Rumlow circled around Steve, and stopped to stand next to Bucky. He ran his hand through Bucky's hair in a mockery of real affection. A cruel grin spread on his scarred face, and he slid his hand down to Bucky's throat. Steve feared he might kill Bucky right then and there. Instead, he turned to face Steve again.   
  
"Oh I'm sure that you would take a bullet for him, Rogers. Your heroic self-sacrifice would be beautiful. Pointless, but beautiful. But here's the thing: then your pal here gets to see you die. And after that, we get to hurt him a little more. A  _lot_  more actually.  
  
Steve could see Bucky twitching under Rumlow's touch, trying to pull away as much as he could without having limbs for leverage.  
  
"What do you think, Captain? How many cocks do you think your boy here can take before we fuck him to death? A hundred? Three hundred? A thousand maybe? I wonder what his holes will look like by then. Little more than a bloody mess, I'd wager."  
  
Steve swore he could see Bucky's lip quivering, his breathing erratic. He genuinely wasn't sure how much more trauma his mangled body could take.  
  
"Rumlow...stop", he said, pleading this time.  
  
Rumlow simply continued, completely undisturbed. He traced his fingers along Bucky's wet cheeks. "I was thinking of cutting his mouth open, right here, ear to ear. Might fit four dicks in there like that...maybe five. "   
  
"Stop," Steve said again, defeated."Stop scaring him. Don't hurt him."  
  
Again Rumlow acted as he had not heard Steve speak.  
  
"I was thinking of cauterizing his nipples. Maybe cut off his dick. I'll probably gauge his eyes out eventually, but only at the end so he can see..."  
  
"  _Dammit_ , Rumlow. What do you want?"  
  
"Like I said, Rogers. I want to see you suffer. Now say 'pretty please' and I might tell you how to get out of this alive."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It only gets worse, trust me.

Steve gritted his teeth.   
  
His eyes screamed  _I'm going to kill you_  but the words that came out were: "Tell me what it will take to keep him alive, Rumlow. I'll do it. P...pr...pretty please." The words tasted like poison.  
  
Rumlow looked incredibly pleased with himself.  
  
"Don't worry, Captain. I only want you to do what comes naturally to you. I want you to show me how much you love your Bucky."  
  
Steve looked at him with utter confusion, that instantly turned to worry again as Rumlow approached Bucky once more.  
  
"Now now, don't act coy. Surely you must be aware of the rumors. Captain America and Bucky Barnes...I hear they teach about you in queer theory now."  
  
"What the hell are you on about, Rumlow?"  
  
"Why, the greatest gay love story of the 20th century that was never told."  
  
"Okay, now I know you've gone completely insane."  
  
Steve regretted the words the moment they came out of his mouth, because they had barely been spoken before Rumlow lifted his free hand and slapped Bucky in the face, hard. On any other day, Bucky would laugh it off - but today, bloodied and broken as he already was - he merely tried to cower away from the hand than caused him pain. Steve saw a few drops of blood appear in the corner of his mouth. He was silent, but his eyes were pleading. Steve wanted to mutter an empty apology to appease Rumlow, but the man had already started to speak again.  
  
"Manners, Captain, manners. I concede I might be a madman, but I'm the madman who decides your fate, so you better act accordingly".  
  
Steve swallowed a million curses he wanted to scream at the man, and nodded meekly.  
  
"Good. So here's the deal. I honestly don't give a rat's ass if you two are or were gay for each other - but either you fuck your pal here, or I give him to my men and force you to watch as they take turns. Many,  _many_  turns. Is that understood?"  
  
Steve did not reply, he simply stared at Rumlow as if he were the Devil himself.  
  
"Tell you what," Rumlow said, a look of amusement on his face, "I'll give you ten minutes to decide. To get used to the idea. I'm a reasonable man."  
  
Rumlow put his gun down on the slab, a couple of feet under Bucky's leg stumps. He pulled a latex glove out of the pocket of his cargo pants, and put it on, deliberately making it snap loudly against his hand.  
  
Steve was taken over with a new sense of dread. He approached - slowly - making sure none of the snipers would get any ideas.  
  
"Rumlow, what are you doing?"  
  
"Never you mind, Rogers. You have some deciding to do."  
  
Undisturbed, Rumlow took a small tube out of the same pocket, and squeezed some of the content on his latex-covered hand. He spread the see-through gel over his fingers. Steve didn't realize at first what was going on. He felt like he  _should_  know, like it was stupid not to, but his brain didn't want to make the connection between what his eyes were seeing and what was actually happening. Bucky, on the other hand, seemed to know exactly what was coming, because the words " _no, please, don't_ " escaped his lips seconds before Rumlow's index finger roughly entered his anus. Every muscle in what was left of Bucky's body braced itself against the intrusion. He threw his head back with enough force that the thud against the operating table actually worried Steve, and he lifted himself up as much as his butchered body would allow, fruitlessly trying to escape Rumlow's finger. Rumlow simply laughed at Bucky's attempt to get away. He used his other hand to roughly press Bucky down on the table, and sunk his finger deeper inside. Bucky's face distorted in pain.  
  
"You said I had time to think." Steve said, his voice small, like that of a child that had been done injustice by an adult. Suddenly he felt 5'4" and weak again.  
  
"Oh, but you do," Rumlow replied as he pumped his finger in and out. "I'm merely getting him ready...for you, for my men...it makes no difference. You should be grateful. There will be less damage if he's slicked up."  
  
Steve felt like the gears of both his body and mind just came to a grinding halt. He should do something. He should know what to do. He needed to fix this.  _How could he fix this?_  There had to be a way. If he could only think of the way.   
  
His usually fast reflexes were failing him, and it was finally starting to sink in there was nothing he could do, but he wasn't willing to accept that just yet. He was torn between trying to get closer, and telling Bucky it was going to be okay, and simply averting his gaze and respecting Bucky by not witnessing this particular violation. He wondered if perhaps he could position himself in such a way that they would both get shot if he attacked Rumlow.   
He could reach for the gun. Stand in such a way that the bullet would pass through him, and hit Bucky on the way out. That would be the solution. That would end this hellish farce. They both died once before - frankly there were worse things. Death would release them.  
  
 _But what if_ , his mind kept screaming as it raced, what if Bucky would not die and remain at the hands of this monster. His thoughts were erratic, trying to find a way out of the situation like rats in a maze, but every plan was blocked off by a new wall, every turn led him to be lost even more..  
  
There was no way out. This was happening. This was happening and he had no idea what to do.  
  
It felt surreal. Like he was trapped inside a nightmare, or watching a film with people who just happened to look like people he knew.  
  
In the end it was Bucky - always Bucky - that tethered him to reality. He heard him cry out as Rumlow forced another finger into him. He was shivering, biting his bloodied lip, not even trying to fight the tears anymore.   
  
"Steve," he pleaded, "please."  
  
Rumlow ignored Bucky, like he was not a man at all. Just some meat on a slab.  
  
"You...or my men, are in for a treat," he breathed, his voice thick with arousal. "Your boy is as tight as a virgin on her wedding night. We never used him like this before, you see. Maybe the Germans or the Russians did, I don't know, but that's one snug fuckhole."  
  
" _I'll do it_ ," he heard himself say, but it sounded like another man's voice to his ears.  
  
Rumlow looked up and locked his gaze with Steve's. He stopped moving his fingers, but kept them buried deep inside Bucky.  
  
"I said I'll do it," Steve repeated, "now please get your fingers out of him.  _Pretty please_ ".  
  
Rumlow's face lit up; his expression a mix of a shit-eating grin and sexual titillation.  
  
"You sure you want me to do that?" Rumlow asked, deliberately pushing into Bucky again until he whimpered.  
  
"Yes, I'm  _sure_ ".  
  
Rumlow pushed in a third finger without additional lube. Bucky's whole body strained with muscle tension again, but he was preventively pinned down by Rumlow this time. There was nowhere to pull away to, he had to take it all at once. An actual scream escaped his mouth this time.  
  
Rumlow laughed. "Reactive, isn't he?"  
  
"You bastard, you said..."  
  
"Oh, don't get our panties in a twist, Cap. I'm just having a little fun."  
  
He pulled his fingers out of Bucky in one go, making him wince again.  
  
"Go on then,"Rumlow said,"He's all yours."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Believe it or not, Rumlow, not all of us get hot and bothered at the thought of rape."

Steve felt the magnetic cuffs behind his back unlock. The mechanism must have been remotely deactivated, he realized. They fell to the ground with a loud thud.  
  
"Don't get any ideas now. Rules still stand. Try anything funny, you die and your pal suffers for your stupidity."  
  
Rumlow picked up his gun again and took a few steps back.  
  
With his hands free, Steve was finally able to reach for Bucky, though he guessed there weren't many places he could touch without hurting him. He placed his hand on Bucky's forehead. Despite the serum, Bucky was burning up.  
  
"Hey, we're going to make it through this," he said, perhaps more for his own benefit than Bucky's.  
  
"This might be a lot easier without clothes, Cap. Just saying," Rumlow said with a smirk.  
  
There were a thousand things Steve could have said to that, but he realized none of them would help him. Without further protest, he started to undress. He folded his clothes neatly and placed the immaculately-arranged pile next to the slab.  
  
"God, gotta love military boys," Rumlow chuckled, "they sure got their priorities straight".  
  
Steve ignored him, and took minor comfort in simply following this routine. This he could handle. This he had a grip on. If he could have control over the way he folded his clothes, maybe he could get some grip on the situation, no matter how small, and actually make it through. It worked, for a few moments, until he was actually standing before the slab naked. His body seemed smaller to him now, seemed to take up less space than it usually did nowadays. He was shivering despite not really being cold, and was blatantly unaroused.  
  
Rumlow moved in front of him, grabbed a chair, and observed him like he was watching a reality show. His gaze was unmistakably directed at Steve's flaccid dick.  
  
"Well, it's not going to work like  _that_. You'll need to put in some effort."  
  
"Believe it or not, Rumlow, not all of us get hot and bothered at the thought of rape."  
  
Rumlow shrugged.  
  
"You can't really rape the Winter Soldier, you know. You can only rape people. And he hasn't been  _people_  for a  _looong_  time.  
  
Steve glared at him, almost forgetting his precarious position.  
  
Rumlow sighed. "Fine, fine. Up to you if you want to play house with him. I don't care either way, as long as your dick goes up his ass.  
  
Steve placed his hand on his crotch, toying with his penis without much conviction. Unsurprisingly, it remained entirely soft.  
  
From the corner of his eye, he could see Rumlow toss something in his direction. His reflexes were good enough to catch it mid-air, even in this predicament. He could tell it was a small pill bottle.  
  
"Viagra," Rumlow explained, "I'm willing to do you a small favor just for the satisfaction of getting to say Captain America can't get it up without little blue pills."  
  
Steve popped a pill almost without thinking. Perhaps this was Rumlow's thing, he thought, worrying about sexual prowess. He did not care. He had nothing to prove, except maybe his loyalty to Bucky, but it wasn't Rumlow he was proving it to. He was glad, in a way, that even his penis had decided that everything about this situation was sick.  
  
Even with the pill, and with more vigorous manual stimulation, Steve's dick proved uncooperative.  
  
"Now now, Cap, I'm willing to give you  _some_  leniency here, but if you fail to perform I'll ask one of the boys to fetch me a stun baton to fuck him with instead. Your choice...which one do you think he'll prefer?"  
  
Steve looked at Rumlow murderously. He was biting his tongue, but every muscle in his body was tense and ready for battle.  
  
It was Bucky's voice that broke the silence, and quite possibly stopped Steve from being killed right there.  
  
"Steve," he said faintly, "c'mere. Put it in my mouth. That might work."  
  
Steve looked at him with utter shock, not believing the words he had just heard.  
  
Rumlow burst into laughter. "Well, isn't that just  _precious_. This I gotta see."  
  
He took out his smartphone, presumably to keep a memento of this twisted scene.  
  
"Go on then, Captain, we haven't got all night. Sounds like a generous offer to me."  
  
Steve moved to stand at Bucky's face-level, looking down on him with worry. He looked so broken and weary, his blue eyes red from past and present tears.  
  
"Buck, you sure about this?"  
  
Bucky nodded. "Look, just try to imagine it's Peggy, or whoever you fancy nowadays, okay?"  
  
Steve tried to suppress a gasp as Bucky tentatively took his cock into his mouth. His first thoughts were those of worry - he'd been fighting before this, after all, and he dreaded the thought that stale sweat might be making it even more unpleasant for Bucky. If it did, he gave no sign of it, and he sucked diligently, trying to get Steve to respond.  
  
Bucky had trouble moving in that angle. Steve could see he avoided leaning on his arm stump, and the realization that Bucky must still be in pain made him flinch. Bucky looked up at him, eyes scared because he feared the repercussions if Steve remained flaccid. Steve put one arm under him for leverage, holding him up best as he could. He placed his other hand on Bucky's cheek, still wet from tears, and gently stroked it with his thumb. He didn't know if it was appropriate, but then again who knew in this situation. It seemed to calm Bucky down somewhat, in any case. He got into a sort of rhythm, bobbing his head up and down as he tried to make Steve's cock come to life.  
  
Steve didn't know if it was the pill or Bucky's mouth on him, but sure enough, his penis started to respond favorably. To his horror, Steve realized it felt  _good_  and he was instantly ashamed of that, hating himself for gaining pleasure from Bucky like this. He bit his lip, desperately trying to fight any noises of pleasure that might escape his lips. Nonetheless, part of him got swept up in the moment. He didn't think of Peggy, or any other girl. His mind wandered to Bucky, as he was before the war, confident and cocky and charming. He imagined the way he danced, the way he laced his army boots with elegant fingers, and how dashing he looked in uniform. It was somewhat perverse, Steve thought, that he'd imagine Bucky like that  _now_ , knowing that he'd never move like that again; that he'd never look like that again. Steve felt his hand instinctively move from Bucky's cheek to his hair, entwining his fingers with it. He wasn't pushing him down, rather he was helping him move, and for a short moment it felt entirely natural, like it was the way their bodies were always meant to fit together. His hips moved gently in time with Bucky's movement, and he could feel he was almost fully erect now, filling Bucky's mouth quite thoroughly. It was wet and warm and tight, and he just wanted to get lost in the feeling forever.   
  
An unconformable choking sound and the realization he was hitting the back of Bucky's throat snapped him back to reality. He withdrew his swollen cock from Bucky's mouth, and released his hair from his grip, realizing only now he'd been holding on tighter than he had thought. Bucky gasped for air as his mouth was emptied. His lips were red and wet. He looked up at Steve like he was the center of the Universe, looking both wrecked and _beautiful_. Steve wished this was any other time, any other place than this.   
  
But it wasn't, and he felt shame at even thinking it. He cast down his eyes and murmured an apology.  
  
"I'm sorry," he managed, "the serum...it made...it made everything..."  
  
Steve had almost forgotten Rumlow was in the room, but the raspy laugh made him acutely aware of his presence again. "Well, look at that," he said as he pointed his smartphone at Steve's crotch, "I thought those were just old wives tales, but  _look at the size of you_. And you're not even fully hard yet, are you? So,  _captain americock_  got himself a growth spurt like the rest of you, huh? This just keeps getting better and better. God bless America."  
  
Rumlow shifted his smartphone so it pointed at Bucky now. "Ain't you lucky, Barnes. You're about to get impaled on the best dick science can make. You should be proud. Terrified, but proud."  
  
Steve could definitely see the fear in Bucky's eyes, but there was also resignation there. Both of them knew there was no getting out of this. This was going to happen. They might buy themselves a few more minutes, but everyone knew what the next step with be.  
  
"Go on now, Barnes. Be a patriot. Help the Captain go full mast," Rumlow coaxed. He sounded like a kid at the funfair. He was enjoying this way too much.  
  
Steve looked at Bucky questioningly. Bucky gave him a short nod that Steve recognized both as permission and as a last attempt to stay brave, but he feared the breaking point was not far off. He placed his hand on Bucky's head again, still holding him up so he wouldn't have to lean on his stump.   
  
As Steve fed Bucky his cock again, he regretted looking at his eyes. I was a look he never wanted to see on his friend's face, let alone when it caused by his own doing. But he felt like he owed it to Bucky; owed him to look at him as he did this. To see him as a human being, and not close his eyes while Bucky was suffering for him.  
  
Bucky accommodated his penis as well as he could. Which was better than expected, considering both the size of Steve's erection and Bucky's lack of experience in the matter. Still Bucky started to choke on it again, his face growing red and his eyes tearing up involuntarily. In any normal circumstance that might have been enough to make Steve go instantly soft gain, but he suspected the drug had taken over at least partially now, which was a small mercy at least. He honestly didn't know if he could do it without it, and he didn't want to think about the consequences of that.  
  
He started to gently stroke Bucky hair again, letting him set the pace rather than fucking his mouth. Bucky made valiant attempts to breathe through his nose and  _God_ , while it looked absolutely filthy, he was overwhelmed by an intense feeling of tenderness towards Bucky. It felt like his heart was going to crack open, like it was too much to hold in altogether.  
  
"You're so brave," he whispered to Bucky, "So very, very brave."  
  
 _I love you_ , he thought, but didn't say, and he startled himself by even thinking it.  
  
"I respect you so much," he said instead, clumsily but well-meant.  
  
"Respect?!" he heard Rumlow repeat, with disbelief bordering on outrage. "You  _respect_  him? You're un-fucking-believable, you know that, Rogers? I swear, you were both brain-damaged by the ice."  
  
Steve feared Rumlow's tone of voice, feared it might lead to Bucky being hurt again, but instead it was him who got kicked against his shin. I wasn't even all that painful, but it startled him. He lost his grip on Bucky, who fell back on the slab, wincing.  
  
"Right," Rumlow said, "that's quite enough foreplay. Now for the main event. Let's see how much respect you have left after that."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hey, if it hurts, you bite down, okay? Like we did with wood when we didn't have anesthetic in the war? As much as you need."

Steve moved to the end of the operating table - where Bucky's feet would have been, if he would still have any. He didn't even know how he was supposed to do this. The slab was fairly narrow, not really made for two people to have sex on. And Bucky was in no way capable of helping him out on this one.  
  
He gently grabbed a hold of Bucky's hips, and moved him a little bit further down.  
  
"Rumlow, give me some more of that lube."  
  
"No."  
  
" _Pretty please_."  
  
"Aw, that's cute. But still no. You said you were sure you wanted me to stop and I did. That's all he's getting."  
  
"Fuck you," Steve growled.  
  
"No, fuck  _him_ , Captain. And don't test my patience."  
  
Steve spit on his hand, and carefully parted Bucky's buttcheeks.  
  
"Hey," he said as his eyes found Bucky's again, "I'm going to work you open a little bit more, okay?"  
  
His tone of voice was completely different now - soft and gentle when his words were reserved for Bucky instead of Rumlow.  
  
Bucky just nodded and Steve saw that as the best shot at consent he was going to get under the circumstances. He slipped his finger inside Bucky, and could feel what Rumlow had said. Despite the slickness, Bucky was very tight there. For a moment he wondered if it was the fear that made him tense up, but he had to push the thought away, or he'd never find it in himself to carry this through.   
  
Two fingers proved a chore already, but Bucky wasn't making any more sounds of discomfort, he was just focusing on his breathing. As Steve moved his fingers, he could feel Bucky relaxing somewhat, the resistance growing less strong. Still, a third finger made Bucky wince again and bite his lower lip. At least there was no scream this time around. Steve didn't know if he could bear  _that_.  
  
"Hey Buck,"he said, "you're doing great, pal. I'm going to add one more, okay? It'll make it easier."  
  
The spit didn't really make for great lubricant, Steve knew, but it was all he had to work with.   
  
The fourth finger barely went it, and it felt like Bucky's body was actively trying to push it out.  
  
"Ow...," he simply let out pathetically, his face distorting with pain, his maimed body trying to withdraw from the fingers. "Stevie, that hurts." And it sounded like he was a kid again, roughed up by bullies, and it broke Steve's heart. He pulled out immediately, but he realized right then that he wasn't going to be able to do this without hurting Bucky.  
  
"Remember what I said about patience, Cap?" Rumlow said behind him. He could feel the barrel of the gun against the back of his head. "Cock. Ass. Now."  
  
"Dammit, Rumlow. I'll tear him open."  
  
"I know. He'll live. Probably. Now get to it."  
  
Steve climbed on top of the slab. The surface was hard and cold, and only now he realized how uncomfortable Bucky must have been. He tried to position himself on top of Bucky as well as he could.   
  
Bucky was shaking under him and he realized that he too had unsteady hands. He was still hard, though - courtesy of the drug, he imagined - but he hated his body for it. If it didn't mean abandoning Bucky to the whims of a madman, he'd have gladly taken death over this. Now it would be his body that would be used to hurt Bucky, and the thought alone was more painful than any bullet he could take.  
  
"Rumlow," he tried in one last desperate attempt, "are you sure you don't want me instead?"  
  
Maybe, maybe that could work.  
  
Steve heard something move, felt his buttcheeks being parted, and felt the barrel of the gun press against his sphincter.  
  
He closed his eyes.  
  
_Good_ , he thought. He could take this. He could take this for Bucky.  
  
He braced for penetration, but it never came. Instead, the gun was withdrawn.  
  
"Tempting offer...but no. You don't get to act out your self-sacrifice fantasies today, Cap."  
  
He could hear a sharp intake of air under him, and realized that Bucky had been waiting for an answer, too, an that his last shred of hope for reprieve was now lost.  
  
Steve looked down on him, trying desperately to figure out how to make this more comfortable for him, but he couldn't.  
  
"Hey," he said, his voice unsteady. "Could you open up your..."  _legs_ , he thought, but didn't say.  
  
Bucky understood, though,and he tilted his hips as well as he could, spreading open his legs stumps. Steve positioned himself as well as he could, until his hard cock was lined up with Bucky's hole.  
  
This was it then. He was going to do this.  
  
The first time he tried to thrust in, his cock just slipped past and didn't go in. He tried a second time, but with similar results. The slick combined with Bucky's tightness, and the lack of leverage were keeping him out.  
  
"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I'm going to have to..."  
  
He grabbed hold of Bucky's waist with his left hand, hoping that area was relatively pain-free. Steve was strong enough to pin down a man with one arm, and that's essentially what he did. He held Bucky in place, as firmly and as gently as he could simultaneously. He took his cock in his right hand, and guided it until it was pressing against Bucky's entrance. He held it there for moments, hesitating.  
  
"Just do it," Bucky said eventually, avoiding his gaze.  
  
Steve wanted to close his eyes, but he couldn't. He had to be able to read Bucky's reactions to this. He pushed past the resistance, forcing the head of his cock in. Physically, it felt  _amazing_. A jolt of pleasure shot through his body. But it was immediately nipped in the bud by Bucky's pained whimper.  
  
He pulled out again immediately, drawing another whimper from Bucky's mouth. He was aware of Rumlow's gun moving closer to the back of his skull again, but he didn't care. The sadistic bastard wasn't going to shoot him now. Not while there was more suffering to inflict.  
  
"S...sorry," he said to Bucky.  
  
"Steve...Steve," Bucky said weakly. He was staring up to some unknown point on the ceiling, trying to keep his composure, to muster courage. "You can't do it...can't do it like this. You need to do it for  _real_. Look, I'm going to scream and I'm going to cry, I'm going to whimper and I'll plead, but you need to ignore that and keep  _going_ ".  
  
"Buck...Bucky, I can't do that, I can't hurt you like that."  _I can't rape you like that,_ he thought.  
  
Bucky's eyes moved to meet his again, tears pooling there once more.  
  
"It's going to hurt either...either way," he said with breaking voice. "I just want you to live, Stevie. Please. I don't want to see you die. I couldn't...couldn't bear that...and I don't want to be left here like this.  _Please_."  
  
With that, Steve thrust in the head of his cock again. If felt easier at least this time. Bucky didn't whimper, but Steve wasn't sure if that was because absence of pain, or because Bucky was keeping quiet for his benefit.  
  
_Just the tip._  He'd heard those jokes before, and he thought they were horribly sexist and unfunny to begin with...but now, now he understood the vileness of it, now he felt dirty for ever even having flashed anyone who joked like that an awkward smile.  
  
He tried to muster courage and asked God to forgive him...though he hoped that if there was indeed someone up there, he wasn't looking down on him in this lowest of moments.  
  
He grabbed on to Bucky as well as he could, and thrust in. Bucky's mouth formed a soundless scream as he took the full length and girth of Steve inside him. It was tight, so very tight and  _good_  and Steve actually had to fight the urge to start fucking him proper right now.  
  
"You're doing so good, Buck. So very good. I'm so proud of you."  
  
And maybe it was his imagination, but he thought he could see a glint of a smile between the pain.  
  
"I'm going to start thrusting now, okay?"  
  
He knew he didn't need to say it, didn't need to ask, but he just wanted to. So very much.  
  
"Okay," Bucky whispered.  
  
Steve moved in him slowly, letting him adjust best as he could. But at this point, he realized, Bucky had been hurt so much that each touch might just be an assault to his system either way.  
  
"How long, Rumlow?" he asked.  
  
"Until you come," the reply sounded, "so really up to you."  
  
Steve's mind started racing again. He was going to have to  _enjoy_  this. At least enough to get off on it. He'd have to...  
  
Bucky must have seen his panic, because he said: "Hey, it's okay. It's like I said before. Think of someone you fancy. You can close your eyes if you want to. I don't mind. Really."  
  
But that was just it, wasn't it? He didn't want to think about anyone else. He wanted to think of Bucky...of Bucky happy and safe and  _beautiful_  and under him but not like  _this_. And he didn't want to close his eyes, because no matter how fucked up, this was still their first time and he wanted...God, how he wanted Bucky right now.  
  
He started moving again, and Bucky seemed to take it well enough at first, but Steve could see the quiver in his bottom lip, and as Steve continued to thrust, tears started flowing down Bucky's cheek copiously.   
  
Steve softened his rhytm, but Bucky shook his head.  
  
"No. Keep going."  
  
Steve started fucking him a little harder - he had to, if he was ever going to come - and with each new thrust a weak "ow" came from Bucky's lips, which he desperately tried to ignore.  
  
  
Steve moved his hand from his crotch and wiped it on his thigh best as he could. He didn't need to to coax his cock in now anymore, anyway.  
  
He moved the hand to Bucky's mouth.  
  
"Hey, if it hurts, you bite down, okay? Like we did with wood when we didn't have anesthetic in the war? As much as you need."  
  
Bucky nodded and already Steve could feel the warm wetness of Bucky's mouth, clamping down near the base of his thumb, teeth digging deeper than he imagined they would at this point.  
  
There was the tight, warm wetness of Bucky's hole around his cock that brought him yet unknown heights physical pleasure - and there was the tight, warm wetness of Bucky's mouth on his hand, and the pain of the bite. Somehow those two mixed up in his head, the pain and the pleasure, and he _wanted_  this, he wanted this so bad. His reasoning was overridden by horniness and overwhelming physical stimuli.  
  
He started thrusting into Bucky properly now, no longer restraining himself. The faster he'd come, the faster this would be over, so he just let himself go. Steve felt Bucky's teeth sink deeper, and as he looked at his hand, he saw blood trickling down there. He didn't stop. That was what he offered his hand for after all. To take at least part of Bucky's pain.  
  
He felt less resistance now when penetrating Bucky, and it felt somewhat slicker inside. He realized, to his horror, this might mean his hand wasn't the only thing that was bleeding. Rumlow's words rang in his head -  _your boy is as tight as a virgin on her wedding night_ , and he thought of the implications, and how much that bastard would probably laugh if he made Bucky bleed down there.  
  
Those were thoughts he couldn't think now, though. He couldn't think of hurting Bucky. He just needed to play his part, as Bucky did his.  
  
"I'm sorry," he panted, I need to fuck you harder to...so I can..."  
  
"I know," Bucky said as he let go of the hand, panting, "Do what you need to do with me."  
  
After that, he felt Bucky's teeth dig into his flesh again, the other side of the hand this time.  
  
Steve finally allowed himself to close his eyes now, because he needed not to see the pain, if he was going to end this. He grabbed on to Bucky tighter now, letting to of the final vestiges of self control. He fucked Bucky hard, almost brutally, chasing his own orgasm. Bucky let out proper screams now, but they were muffled by his hand. He could feel Bucky's arm stump poking against his bicep, as if in a desperate attempt to tap out, but they both knew that wasn't going to happen.  
  
He was getting closer, he could feel it. He needed to carry this through, or his misery would start all over again. His cock went in deep, splitting Bucky open, over and over again. The teeth let go off his hand, and he could hear Bucky's voice pleading.  
  
"Stop, please, Stevie stop I can't anymore, I said i could but..."  
  
Steve kept his eyes shut, and placed his hand over Bucky's mouth.  
  
"Shh, just a little more. You can do it. Almost there, Buck."  
  
Bucky was squirming under him, but Steve pinned him down. He needed to now. He'd beg for forgiveness later.  
  
He focused on the pleasure and the pain, and fucked into Bucky a few final times.  
  
_Just a little more,_  he kept telling himself in his head.  
  
And then he could hear Bucky screaming as he finally pumped his load inside his tight asshole.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What a mess you made, Captain", he could hear Rumlow say, "You really should clean it up."

Steve's whole body shuddered with release. He was in a daze for a few moments, before he heard the faint voice beneath him.  
  
"Steve...please take it out."  
  
His eyes instantly snapped open again. He moved like he had been burned, and pulled out of Bucky. His cock made an obscene squelching sound as it was removed from Bucky's ass.  
  
Now that his orgasm had subsided, he somehow felt even more disgusting.  
  
He could feel himself shaking, unsure if it was from fear, anger or muscle fatigue...possibly all of the above. He could barely stand to face Bucky, but he forced himself to.   
  
Bucky looked like a mess. His hair was sticky with sweat. His eyes and lips were red, his cheeks streaked with tears. Steve could see a hand-shaped bruise forming at his hip, and he cringed when he realized that was  _his_  doing. He dreaded to look lower, but he had to.   
  
Bucky's leg stumps were still spread open, like the had been for  _use_. It looked like the wounds had taken strain by the whole exercise. Despite the primitive attempts to cauterize them, they had cracked open in several places. Not much, but probably enough to be excruciatingly painful. Steve could see there were traces of blood on both of them. Between the stumps, he could see Bucky's asshole - fucked open now en leaking a generous amount of cum. It was pouring out of Bucky and dripping onto the slab - undeniable evidence of what had just happened. There was some blood mixed in with the cum, too, confirming Steve's previous fear.  
  
All he really wanted was to scoop Bucky up in his arms and hold him there forever, but he realized that might actually be the last thing Bucky would want right now.  
  
"What a mess you made, Captain", he could hear Rumlow say, "You really should clean it up."  
  
Steve sat up on his knees and turned to face Rumlow. He wasn't even trying to hide his hatred anymore, but the gun was still on him...on  _them_. He had come so far. He could take a little more. He reached out his arm.  
  
"Give me a towel then."  
  
Rumlow laughed.  
  
"You're adorable, Rogers. All innocent even now. But you're not getting off that easy. There are no towels here, princess. You get to clean it with your mouth."  
  
If Rumlow had said that to him a day ago - hell, even two hours ago - he would have thought it preposterous. But now...now he didn't even protest. He sank between Bucky's stumps, gently placing his hands on either side of them, making sure he wasn't touching anywhere near the wounds.  
  
He wasn't quite able to fit on the table entirely, so he was crouching somewhat, and must have looked rather ridiculous - which he was sure Rumlow was enjoying.  
  
Steve was trying not to think of Rumlow, though. He hadn't really ever thought of eating out another man's ass before - not even Bucky's, and certainly not after fucking. He knew it was a thing. His early enthusiasm with the internet had seen to that, but frankly he had categorized it among the things he didn't really need to know about. He found it unappetizing at best, disgusting at worst.  
  
Right now his feelings were...complex. He wasn't looking forward to the act, but at least while he would be doing this, Bucky would be relatively pain-free.  
  
He looked up at Bucky, but he angle didn't quite allow him to make eye contact.  
  
"Hey pal," he said loud enough so Bucky would hear,"I'm just going to do this, okay. I'll be gentle, I promise."  
  
Bucky didn't reply, but Steve knew there wasn't really a choice either way.  
  
Steve tried to ignore the assault on his nostrils as he moved closer. There was cum, and sweat and blood and a few more things he couldn't quite place, but he wouldn't let that stop him.  
  
He carefully placed his mouth on Bucky's cum-streaked buttcheek, and started licking it up. The taste wasn't quite as bad as he imagined it would be. He could do this.   
  
From the corner of his eye, he could see that Rumlow was still - or once again - filming. He must have seen Steve glancing at him, because he was quick to comment: "Who would have guessed, huh? That Captain America is a cum-eating faggot? Well, I would have, obviously. But no-one ever asks me. Don't you worry, though, Cap. Soon, everyone will be able to see."  
  
Steve felt like he should be horrified. Or petrified. Or both. But really he was beyond the point of caring. If Rumlow got off on humiliating him, so be it. If he could hold out long enough to make it out alive, he could always smash that infernal camera phone. And kill Rumlow. Maybe not in that order.  
  
He returned to his task. His tongue teased around Bucky's asshole now, and he could feel it twitch at the touch. From here, he couldn't really tell Bucky if was okay, but he tried to let him know by the way he touched him. His fingertips gently circled on the skin of the still-intact parts of Bucky's outer thighs. He licked Bucky's hole carefully but diligently. It tasted like salt and copper, and he only hoped that was how it was  _supposed_  to taste, and not the result of the damage.  
  
There was a moment there, being crouched between what was left of Bucky's legs, that he managed to get out of his own head, out of the reality of the situation. He no longer thought of the taste, the camera, or the awkward pose. Something welled up inside him - a desire to make Bucky  _clean_  as best as he could. He got lost in the motion of licking his hole and he finally could feel Bucky relaxing under his touch. He kept going, licking Bucky, even after there was nothing to clean anymore.  
  
He gasped as he felt Rumlow roughly grab his hair and pull him away.  
  
"Oh my fucking God," he heard Rumlow say, "you're actually into it, aren't you? I swear, if you're into eating amputee assassin ass, you're sicker in the head than I am, Cap. Why don't you clean the table while you're at it?"  
  
Steve felt Rumlow release his grip, and he fell back between Bucky's leg stumps.  
  
He lowered himself even more, and obediently lapped up the cum that had leaked onto the slab. He didn't even have the energy to feign defiance anymore. Rumlow had won this round, and he knew it.  
  
He licked until everything was clean.  
  
"Pathetic," he heard Rumlow say, with genuine disgust in his voice.  
  
Steve looked up at him, up at the camera and the gun, and tried to anticipate what would come next.  
  
"Why don't you give your pal a kiss, Captain?"  
  
The question knocked the air out of his lungs. Of course Rumlow was only doing it to humiliate him, and to make Bucky taste the cum Steve had just eaten. But to him, this was scarily intimate, more than the sex ever could have been.  
  
He moved back up so he was on top of Bucky again. He noticed Bucky was semi-hard now, for the first time, but he gathered that might be normal considering...well, considering what he'd just done. He positioned himself so they were face to face. Bucky still looked a mess, but at least the expression on his face was more relaxed. Steve tried to swallow as much as he could, so the taste of cum would be washed away as much as possible before he'd place his mouth on Bucky's.  
  
"Hey there. I'm sorry about this. Can I?"  
  
Bucky nodded.  
  
"Won't be the worst thing you do to me tonight."  
  
Steve's first reaction to those words was that he wanted to be swallowed whole by the earth, but then he saw the faint half-smile on Bucky lips, and he realized it was a feeble attempt a dark humor.  
  
He smiled back, placed his hand on Bucky's cheek and then leaned in to kiss him chastely on the lips.  
  
"Now now, that's not a kiss, that's a peck. You can do better", Rumlow taunted.  
  
Steve knew the remark was coming, and he wasn't even going to fight this.  
  
He leaned in again, teasing Bucky's lips with his his tongue until they parted. As they did, he slipped his tongue inside - exploring, not conquering - and kissed Bucky with a strange mix of tenderness and urgency.  
  
Even before he pulled away he knew...he  _knew_  that this kiss would give him away. This kiss was  _real_ , and it was clear as day, because the kiss was just like Steve Rogers himself: honest and straightforward.   
  
And if that was not enough, Steve's cock became hard again against Bucky's belly.  
  
Bucky had been wrong. This  _was_  the worst thing he would do tonight.  
  
As Steve met Bucky's eyes again, he knew that he knew, because not in a million years could Steve Rogers ever fake a kiss.  
  
Despite being so utterly broken, it was Bucky who looked at him with pity now, and Steve wasn't sure he could bear it.  
  
Bucky openen his mouth, as if to say something. He stopped before any sound came out, though, possibly because he realized Rumlow would hear whatever he'd say.  
  
"That was  _beautiful_ , boys. I'm sure the internet will love it," Rumlow commented.  
  
Steve sat up on his knees again.  
  
"Rumlow. Let us go. We've done what you asked. It's over."  
  
"It's not over until I say it's over," Rumlow growled. "Besides," he said as he motioned his hand from Bucky's to Steve's crotch, "looks like that kiss got you boys all excited. It would be a pity to let that go to waste."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I can't...can't take anymore. Stevie, I'm all torn up inside."

Steve looked down at his own crotch, and cursed at his body betraying him. He was no longer sure if this was the pill's doing, or if this was just him wanting Bucky.  
  
"We're among supersoldiers here," Rumlow mocked. "I'm sure you can go another round."  
  
Steve looked at Bucky and saw the sheer panic in his eyes.  
  
"Rumlow, no, he can't take anymore. He  _can't_."  
  
"Oh, don't underestimate your friend. I used to take him on missions. Boy's got resilience."  
  
Steve seethed on the inside. This man had pretended to be his friend, had smiled at him and joked with him, all while keeping his best friend as his brainwashed pet.  
  
"I think I want to see him ride you this time." Rumlow continued."Yeah, that sounds like fun."  
  
"Oh for God's sake, he  _can't_. He can't even sit up, you know that."  
  
"I'm sure you'll find a way."  
  
" _NO_."  
  
Three shots were fired instantly from the glass wall, mere seconds within each other. Steve ducked over Bucky, shielding him with his body.  
  
For a moment he was back in Europe, feeling the cold winter winds on his face, hearing the cries of dying men nearby, and the sound of gunshots and bombs in the distance. He shivered.  
  
He forced the memory away best as he could, and looked to see what had happened. Three bullet holes now adorned the floor next to the operating table. They formed a line of sorts - the first a few feet away, the next closer, and the last right next to the table leg.  
  
These were highly trained gunmen. If they had missed, it was only because they had chosen to.  
  
"Your call, Cap. We can put you out of your misery, no problem. But we get to keep Bucky to play with."  
  
Steve didn't know anymore. Maybe death was better. Maybe Rumlow was bluffing. Maybe Bucky was so broken he'd die quickly if they tried to torture him.  _Maybe..._  
  
But he couldn't bet on maybe's, now could he? That's why he had obeyed so far. Because he couldn't leave Bucky with these monsters.  
  
He sat up on the slab and swung his legs over the edge. He lifted Bucky up,holding him in his arms like a broken doll, and pulled him on his lap. He supported his weight as much as he could, so there wouldn't be any pressure on the stumps, but that was near impossible. They were facing each other again, and the painful grimace on Bucky's face gave everything away. His eyes were pleading, but Steve wasn't the man who could give hearing to that plea. Their cocks were rubbing against each other - Steve's still frustratingly hard, while Bucky's was becoming rapidly soft.  
  
This was wrong. This was  _all wrong_. This was how lovers were supposed to sit, how lovers were supposed to touch. This was a cruel parody of it. What was supposed to be born of free will, happened under the barrel of a gun. What was supposed to cause pleasure, caused pain. And love...well love was still there, but it had been twisted and broken, and used as a weapon against them.  
  
He held Bucky close, closer than he might have before, because what anyone thought was no longer something he worried about.  
  
"Buck, I need to put in inside you a little more, okay?"  
  
Bucky shivered all over, and rested his head against the crook of Steve's neck.  
  
"Steve, no. I can't. I can't. Please make it stop. Make it stop."  
  
"I can't, sweetheart. I'm so sorry. You need to be brave a little more."  
  
Steve tried to ignore the fact he had just used the word  _sweetheart_ , but it came from his soul and it was the one thing he would not apologize for. He lifted Bucky up a bit, and positioned himself so that his erection was pressing against Bucky's asshole again.  
  
"No...please no," Bucky's words were muffled against Steve's skin, but Steve understood them loud and clear. He was almost on the verge of tears himself. He wanted Bucky to give him permission. He  _needed_  him to, but he realized that might not happen.  
  
"Buck, please."  
  
He could see Rumlow hovering closer, gun drawn.  
  
Steve could feel Bucky shaking his head against him. "I can't...can't take anymore. Stevie, I'm all torn up inside.  
  
This was going to be worse than he thought. Rumlow  _would_  kill him, of that he was sure. And it was either his cock, or a dozen Hydra ones...he knew that, but God he didn't want to do this.  
  
He stroked Bucky's hair and held him closer, whispering in his ear: "I'm sorry, pal, I have to do it. I have to. Be strong for me, okay? Here it comes. Try to relax."  
  
Steve thrust forward into Bucky, supporting his weight as much as he could. He tried to be gentle, but the angle made gravity work against him, and he slid into Bucky fully in one go. Bucky cried out against his shoulder.  
  
"You can bite down there, okay, like you did before. You're doing good. We're going to get through this."  
  
He could feel Bucky's teeth sinking into his flesh, but the bite was weaker now, hardly even causing him pain, let alone drawing blood.  
  
As Steve started fucking him again, he could hear Bucky sobbing in time with the thrusts. The sobs were shaking his truncated body, and Steve realized he was simply crying now, not even trying to hold it in. Bucky had broken under his touch and all the pain was flowing out now, raw and uncensored.  
  
Steve felt Bucky remove his teeth from his shoulder, and place his cheek on Steve's chest. He could feel the wetness of tears there. His lap felt wet, too, and he dared not to look if it was sweat, blood from Bucky's stumps, or blood from other places. He kept fucking Bucky, dreading each response Bucky's body made to the act. It felt looser to him now, with less friction, but he gathered there was no such reprieve for Bucky. He could feel his own tears welling up now, too, because no matter the circumstance, it was still  _him_  doing this to Bucky and it was more than his heart could bear.  
  
He clung to Bucky's hips, lifting him up as he fucked him, burying himself into that warm tightness over and over again, trying to tap into that feeling alone: the primal, unfiltered pleasure of the act of penetrating - just a cock and a hole, nothing else, nothing more.   
  
But this time, try as he might, he could not separate the two. He couldn't ignore the sobbing, broken human being in his arms - a human being he loved above all else in the world. The two were inseparably entwined, and his brain could not deal with the dissonance.  
  
"Please, Stevie. No more."  
  
He didn't stop. He couldn't stop. But he realized that he might not be able to carry this to an end - that this time, there would be no climax that could give them temporary rest at least.  
  
"Rumlow, let me stop.  _Please_  let me stop. Not even you can be this cruel."  
  
"No can do, Captain. You know the rules. You get to stop when you cum. Unless you can get  _him_  to cum. Now wouldn't that be something?"  
  
Steve considered it for a brief moment. Considered trying to get his hand on Bucky's cock and  _try_ , but looking at the state he was in, he knew it would be pointless.  
  
"Oh, and stop slacking". He could hear Rumlow's voice close now. He must have gotten closer without Steve noticing. He grabbed Bucky's shoulders, gun still in one hand, and pressed him down on Steve's cock. Steve could feel Bucky sinking his teeth into him again as he was impaled, drawing blood this time, muffling a haunting scream.   
  
Rumlow moved further back again after that, presumably admiring his handiwork.  
  
"You know what's funny?" Rumlow said as he paced the room," The longer you try to be gentle, the longer he'll have to take your dick. And in the end...you'll have to be rough anyway, like you were before. So all you're doing is prolonging the pain. Not that I mind."  
  
Rumlow seemed caught up in his own thoughts, and Steve hoped that would give him a small window of time. When Rumlow seemed far enough again, Steve moved his lips close to Bucky's ear, so no-one else could hear. He kept moving in and out of him in a steady rhythm, to keep Rumlow's wrath at bay.  
  
"If I hold you close," he whispered,"and I piss Rumlow off...maybe he'll shoot me and the bullet will pass through both of us. I could do that. It would be over. We'd both be gone."  
  
He could feel Bucky's head shaking no against his chest.  
  
"No...I want you to live," he whispered between thrusts and sobs. "And we're...we're supersoldiers. You can't be sure...".  
  
Steve clung to Bucky, moving in and out of him, trying desperately to think of something that could bring him to orgasm in this situation.   
  
"Steve," Bucky said weakly, almost inaudibly, "you could break my neck in this position. You're strong enough."  
  
If Steve ever had any chance of reaching a climax, then it was gone now. He finally released the tears he'd been holding in, and they ran down his face.  
  
"Bucky...no. You can't ask me that. I can't. I can't...."  _I love you,_  his mind screamed,  _I don't want to live without you ever again._  
  
" _Please_ , Stevie. If you care for me,  _end it_. "  
  
"Bucky...no."  
  
He kissed Bucky's forehead, weeping, still fucking into him at an unforgiving pace.  
  
"What are you two lovebirds on about?" Rumlow's voice sounded harshly.  
  
Steve could feel Bucky sit up with more strength than he imagined he could still muster.  
  
Bucky's eyes met his, and he could see Bucky mouth a soundless "sorry".  
  
It was Bucky who faced Rumlow now, anger and determination mixed in with the fear and pain in his expression.  
  
"I was just telling Steve," Bucky spat, "what a pathetic loser you are, needing to rape people by proxy 'cause you can't get your own burned dick up to do it yourself."  
  
Rumlow leaped across the room with an agility that was surprising for a man of his age and build, let alone one with burn scars. He pulled Bucky off Steve and threw him on the ground. Steve watched in horror as Rumlow placed his gun against Bucky's head. Steve jumped after them, but a bullet pierced his upper thigh before he could reach them. He dropped down on the floor, and instantly held up his hands so the men behind the glass wall could see his surrender.   
  
"What did you say, you little whore?" Rumlow hissed as the gun pressed threateningly against Bucky's temple.  
  
"I said," Bucky panted, "that you're an impotent coward."  
  
Honestly Steve was surprised Rumlow didn't pull the trigger at that very moment. Instead, he smacked Bucky's face with the back of the gun, hard enough that a cracking noise could be heard. Steve got shivers down his spine just hearing it.  
  
The worst thing was that he  _knew_  what this was. He knew what Bucky was doing. This was suicide-by-Hydra. He wanted to provoke Rumlow into killing him. And Steve wasn't entirely convinced that Rumlow had the self-control not to.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve really thought this was it - that this was the moment Rumlow would snap and actually fire the gun. He could see his finger twitching on the trigger.

Steve watched helplessly as Rumlow shoved the gun down Bucky's asshole. Bucky winced, but didn't give Rulmlow the satisfaction of a cry.

Rumlow looked at Bucky with pure, unadulterated hatred.

"What do you think will happen if I pull this trigger, huh? I'm asking 'cause I don't know. Think your superserum will be able to heal you on time - or will you just die slowly from internal bleeding?"

Bucky spat blood in Rumlow's face. "I don't know, why don't you be a man and do it, instead of talking about it?"

Steve really thought this was it - that this was the moment Rumlow would snap and actually fire the gun. He could see his finger twitching on the trigger.

"STOP!" he yelled. "Rumlow, can't you see he's doing this to get a rise out of you? He wants you to do it."

"Shut the hell up, Steve," Bucky growled.

It was too late, though. Rumlow pulled his weapon out. He wiped Bucky's blood off his face and looked at it with disgust. He reached down to Bucky's prosthetic arm socket, and pulled on the exposed wiring. Bucky screamed like Steve hadn't heard him scream before yet. He hadn't even realized Bucky could feel there - let alone that it could bring him pain. 

"Please stop hurting him. Pretty please. I'll do anything."

"I'm getting real tired of this shit, Rogers."

Rumlow got up and stepped to where Steve had dropped on the floor. He kicked him in the gut, hard boot making contact with exposed flesh. Steve felt the wind knocked out of him and grunted, but he didn't move. If Rumlow wanted to beat him to take out his anger, that was fine. But no more kicks followed. Instead, Rumlow hunched down next to him and pushed his thumb against the bullet wound in his leg. Steve winced, but made no move to stop Rumlow. He gritted his teeth as he felt Rumlow's thumb press into the wound, pushing the bullet deeper into his flesh.

"Well, look at that, Cap. I get to penetrate you after all."

"Whatever you want, Rumlow."

"You know what I want. And you're not done yet."

Rumlow removed his thumb and walked back to Bucky. He motioned Steve to come over. Steve crawled to Bucky's side obediently.

Rumlow moved behind Bucky. He placed one arm around Bucky's waist, holding him up, and pressed the gun against his head with the other. 

Steve knew what was expected of him, and positioned himself between Bucky's stumps. There was blood everywhere. He didn't even know where it was coming from or who it belonged to, and at this point he wasn't even sure that Rumlow would let them stop before one of them succumbed to their injuries. Maybe that was his real plan. Maybe they never stood a chance in making it. But he had to...he had to try.

He was only half-hard now, but as his cock rubbed against Bucky's buttcheek, it came alive again. Bucky could feel that, and looked up at him with a mix of fear and anger.

"Damn you, Steve, I could have ended this," he said, ignoring the gun to his temple.

"I couldn't let you sacrifice yourself."

"I wasn't your choice to make."

"Aw, isn't that cute,"Rumlow interjected."Bickering like an old married couple. Now stop talking and start fucking."

Steve entered Bucky, and this time Bucky only gritted his teeth, but there was no more protest. Steve grabbed hold of Bucky's stumps and thrust forward. He tried to avoid locking eyes with Rumlow, who was hovering uncomfortably close. He could even feel his breath on his face.

Bucky was pliant now, and while his eyes were still tearing, his gaze seemed a thousand miles away. Steve could only hope he had found some place in his head that he could go, away from this wretched place. 

Steve honestly didn't know what he was doing anymore, but he just felt like he had to keep going, like a man with one last bottle of water in the desert, with no oasis in sight. Hoping that rescue would come against all odds.

And then, suddenly, it did.

An alarm started to wail, deep like a trombone, the bass sending soundwaves through the floor itself. The lights in the room flickered, then turned a deep shade of red. Steve heard shooting, and when he looked up, the men behind the glass wall fell down like dominoes, as a red-headed woman threw kicks and punches that were too fast for them to anticipate. 

The cavalry had arrived.

Rumlow made the mistake of looking behind him and loosening his grip on Bucky. The latter snapped out of whatever haze he was in, and sunk his teeth into Rumlow's wrist. Rumlow cried out and dropped the gun.

Steve didn't have time to think, but he reached for the gun on instinct, grabbing it a fraction of a second before Rumlow could.

He stood up and pointed the gun directly at Rumlow now, finger on the trigger. He hesitated perhaps a moment too long. Rumlow must have seen it in his eyes, because he kicked Steve's gunshot wound, causing him to lose balance.

Rumlow ran to a metal door on the far end of the room. Steve fired shots after him. None seemed to hit their target before he jumped through the door and it closed with loud, metallic creaking. 

Steve limped to the door, trying to give chase, but on the other side he could already hear a complex mechnism locking. He pulled on the door for good measure, but not even super strength could take this one out if its hinges. 

Even if he could open it, he knew Rumlow would be long gone by then. And he couldn't even chase him with that leg. 

He needed to return to what mattered, he thought. Bucky was still lying on the floor. He limped back to the slab and snagged the bloodied sheet from the slab, and his own uniform jacket from the pile he had neatly folded not so long ago. He knelt down next to Bucky, pulling him up to rest against his chest. He wrapped him in the sheet, and put his jacket over his shoulders.

"You did good," he whispered,"you're safe now. Help is on the way."

"Steve," Bucky said with a shaky voice, "are there still bullets left in that gun?"

"Yes...yes I think so. Why?"

Steve coud hear Bucky sob again. "Put it to my head. Pull the trigger. It will be quick. I won't suffer." 

Steve could feel panic welling up again.

"What...Bucky, no...it's going to be okay. We'll take care of you."

Bucky strained himself to sit up more, meeting Steve's eyes.

"Steve, look at me...really look at me. It's not going to be okay. Stop trying to save me." His voice broke as he tried to continue. "Can't you see...there's nothing left of me to save? I don't want to live like this."

Steve felt ice cold. He didn't want to do this. He couldn't do this. But how could he disrespect his best friend's wishes to die, if he no longer had the means to do it himself?

"Steve, please hurry. They'll be here any second now."

Steve lifted the gun to Bucky's head. His hand was shaking uncontrollably, and he feared he might even accidentally fire the gun by muscle spasm alone.

"Please," Bucky pleaded.

It was then, in that very moment, that Steve Rogers felt himself break.

He was no longer able to hold the gun, and it fell to the floor with a clang, firing its last bullet into a wall. The shaking in his hand seemed to run up his arm and infected the rest of his body, until every muscle was spasming involuntarily. He could hear himself sob...again..and again. His eyes could not contain his tears and they were flowing freely now. He was nearly blinded by their quantity. 

"I can't," he sobbed helplessly, "forgive me."

He buried his face in the crook of Bucky's neck, wishing for arms to hold him...arms that now never would...never could.

He feared harsh words from Bucky, but they never came. He felt hesitant lips touch his forehead. From the way Bucky was shaking, Steve could tell that he, too, was crying now.

Behind them, another heavy metal door opened.

"Aw, hell no," Steve could here Sam's voice. He heard footsteps approaching, but still flinched when he felt Sam touch his shoulder.

"Steve, we're going to get you guys to a hospital, okay?"

He registered the words, but didn't reply to them.

"What's your status?" he could hear Natasha's voice. She was better at containing her panic, but there was still a tremble in her speech. 

It wan't until Bucky replied, that Steve realized Natasha had been addressing him...the Winter Soldier part of him. His voice was still shaky, but fully coherent."Captain Rogers has a gunshot wound to the left leg and bite wounds on his left shoulder and right hand. He also seems to be unresponsive because of emotional trauma now. I have suffered multiple amputations. I also have third degree burns and...rectal tearing. Possibly internal damage."

He heard Nat breathe in sharply. He knew things must have looked bad if even she dropped her stoic facade. 

He did not protest when he felt female hands tie a bandage around his leg wound.

Eventually, he could feel Bucky being lifted from his embrace, and the emptiness it left felt like a physical ache. When he looked up, he could see Sam carrying Bucky. He wanted to say something. Maybe offer to carry Bucky himself. But words failed him.

When Nat offered him his uniform, he put it on mechanically. She pulled his arm over her shoulder, and supported him as he limped toward the door. Everything was a haze, and he wasn't quite aware of the fact they had reached a car until he was sitting in the passenger seat. Glancing at the rear view mirror, he could see Nat making Bucky as comfortable as she could. Perhaps it was better that was a woman doing this right now, he thought. Better than if he were doing it, in any case.

As Sam started the car and began driving towards the hospital, Steve felt himself returning to his body, realizing only now he had been out of touch with it. 

It was dawning outside. The colors of the sky looked beautiful, but they had lost the ability to inspire awe in him.

The longer they drove, the more he understood why Bucky had asked for that bullet.

Living is the best revenge, they say. But perhaps, he thought, sometimes the opposite is true. Maybe sometimes the best revenge is to inflict life on those who have been broken by it.

He dared not think of tomorrow. It was too horrible a thought.

Looking behind him, he could see Bucky had fallen asleep against Natasha's shoulder. She was holding him with a tenderness he had not before seen in her, and he was grateful for that at least.

He closed his eyes, finally allowing himself to rest. He trusted everyone in this car. 

The roar of the engine and the warm glow from the radiator made his exhausted body drowsy, and release finally came in the form of sleep.

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \---
> 
> Author's note: That's it, girls and boys. Hope it was the right kind of horrible.
> 
> I AM planning a sequel, but it will be less trashy and more aftermath angst mixed with fluff. So I think it will best go in another story altogether, because the tone will be different.
> 
> Also I might take a break for a few weeks and work on other stories.
> 
> But, if you have any suggestions, wishes, ideas for how these two poor bastards go on after this, you can leave them here!


End file.
